Spawn Of The Cheerleader
by The Salad is Dressing
Summary: [OneShot] Paul doesn't like children. Their kinda creepy. Don't be offended, it's not personal, he just ... doesn't like small things. So what is he doing in a Day Care center?


HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA. This Story is not what you think. There is a TWIST. It's not a PS. You might hate this … but I think it's one of my best ideas. HAHAHAHA. Please read. I feel so proud of this, and it's not even well written. It doesn't matter if your a PSer or JFCer .. just read it. READ IT!

It's in Pauls P.O.V. … sorry if he sounds kinda feminine, I can't write his voice very well.

Anyway, I know its not very original. Or funny. But …. I just had to do it. I don't know why.

Disclaimed to Meg cabot.

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Would Sandra _ever_ come out?

I hate these places. Full of children.

Oh no, don't get me wrong. I, uhh, like children. They're great.

I just don't like hanging around them for too long. They're … creepy. But only the really small ones. Ugh, they're hands .. their heads … so _small_. I don't like _small_ things. Imagine what it was like having to live with Jack.

I looked around me. This place was so bright. The walls of the large room were painting in all different colours, and the carpet was a bright blue. It looked like some kind of fuzzy material, but I was too scared to touch it. They were toys randomly spread out all over the flor and at least 20 children scattered all over the room, amusing themselves. In a corner was a bookshelf, no doubt filled with happy inflatable children's books.

I fel like I was in .. Oz. You know? _Were off to see the wizard the wonderful wizard of_?

Your probably wondering, what I, Paul Slater, amazingly rich lawyer, was doing in a _Child Care Centre_.

I was here to pick up a client, I assure you. I didn't have any children of my own, and I didn't work here. No way. _No way_.

I was leaning against an orange wall, when I spotted something …. Weird.

There was a little boy sitting in the corner with two other boys, about the same age.

The weird part? The the third boy was dead.

Yeah. Dead. Maybe I should explain. I'm a shifter. Or as some people call it, a mediator. Basically, I have the power to see the spirits of the dead. And the power to touch them and hear them, as they can see, touch and hear me aswell. Some people believe that this power should be used to help Spirits _move on to the other side_, resolving their problems and helping them to go wherever it is they're supposed to go. But Personally? I feel it's each to their own. _I_ was the one born with this power, and _I_ will use it how I like.

Obviousely, these kids possessed the same gift I did. Which wasn't much of a big surprise, seeing as I'd met other shifters before.

As I was saying, the third boy was dead.

That didn't seem to make much of a difference though, seeing as the two tiny live boys were happily babbling away to him about god knows what, probably … the latest episode of "Sesame Street" or something.

They were strangely familiar … one of the live boys had a thick mess of black hair on top of his head, and bright green eyes. His skin was olive, like he was European or something. The other had light brown curls slopping all over his head and falling into his weird, icy blue eyes. He reminded me of Jack.

The deceased boy was unrecognizable to me. He was sort of blurry, but I could vaguely see red hair.

God, if anyone saw me they probably thought I was a paedophile or something, staring at the three boys. I already look out of place. I mean, I was wearing a suit, in a _Child Care Centre_.

Feeling fascinated and putting aside my _slight dislike_ for children, I wandered over to the babbling trio and the closer I got the clearer the ghost boy became. He was very plain, with small brown eyes and a few freckles, the rest of his features average. If it wasn't for his bright messy red hair he'd blend in with al the other children. Minus the whole dead thing.

'Hey kid, what's your name?' I questioned the one that Jack-Reminder.

The Black haired boy glared at me, "We're not allowed to talk to strangers!"

"Yeah," agreed the dead-red-head, 'So come near us and we'll scream!"

You can scream all you want, red head, but nobodies gonna hear you.

Except me, and the two boys of course.

I glanced at the curly haired boy.

He was staring at me with wide eyes, looking at me as if I was as ghostly as the red head.

"My Mummy has pictures of you all over the HOUSE!" He shrieked, his face erupting into an excited smile.

…………………………………………………….

…………………………………………………..

WHAT? Ha. Children. So delusional. So easily confused.

"Ha Ha. Very funny, kid. Your must be confused."

He nodded his head unintelligently, 'I must be CONFOOSED!"

He and his small little friends all exploded into laughter, then went back to their childish con-ver-say-shun, oblivious to me completely.

The bell rang for the Child Care session to be over. Sandra, my client, would be out in a minute, and we could get out of here. Then once the case was over, I'd finally be able to escape from _Carmel-by-the-Sea_.

I stepped away from the children and into a corner and watched as mother's and father's slowly entered the room, taking their kids home.

Something caught my eye.

Walking towards the trio of boys was Susannah Simon.

Suze. My .. "_High-school Sweetheart_". The girl I chased until I was _almost_ ready to give up, until I finally had her, only to have her throw it back in my face. The girl who hated me more than anything, yet still managed to-

Wait. She was walking towards the trio. I glanced at the boys and realized something.

The curly haired boy, who looked like Jack, was starting to look less and less like jack and more like... well, me.

And Suze was walking towards him.

A freaky thought hit me …. _This boy might be my son_.

No. Impossible. Suze wouldn't have …. No.

She had a ditzy looking blonde walking beside her, babbling on to her about something, though I couldn't see her face as it was covered by her thick honey blonde hair.

Suze looked royally pissed with her, and I noticed the shiny gold ring on her wedding finger. Damn.

As they moved closer, I could snatch snippets of their conversation, or, what the blonde was saying.

" – And I swear so many guys have asked me out but I keep telling them that he'll come back- "

" – And they shouldn't laugh at me because it's true- "

" – And I put his picture up all over the- "

" –And when he comes back we'll, like, marry- "

" –Don't you think he looks like his father?"

By now my prayers had been answered, because Suze had scooped up the black haired boy and was walking off, while the blonde woman was left babbling to herself.

She cooped The Me-Look-Alike boy up in her arms.

"You're so cute! Mummy is gonna take you to the candy shop now to buy some lollies."

It was then that I recognised the voice, the one I hadn't heard since Highschool, the one I dreaded. The voice …..

My Worst Nightmare had come true, and suddenly I wished that I always used protection.

The snippets of conversation, the pictures all over the house, the way he looked like me, the shifter thing . … I started to piece it all together in my head … _He was my son, just not in the way I thought_ …..

'Kelly?"

She turned and saw me.

" …..Paul?"

"_Kelly_?"

'PAUL-_IE_!"

" … Kelly ….."

_Shit._

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Yeah. It's not that great. But … I just like it anyway. REVIEW!


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